My Unfortunate Fate
by Elisi0n
Summary: "I might...if I didn't live here." "But you do." Katniss snaps. And that's the problem. I live here. Gale's point of view during THG - planning to go through all three books. Rated M for language, and because I'm paranoid. Purely fan fiction, I don't own the Hunger Games. Keeping the script and characters true to the books!


_Chapter 1_

My eyes flicker open the moment the dim light of dawn seeps through the moth-eaten holes of the tattered cloth hanging over our bed room windows.

Rory is sprawled out next to me on the bed we share, with both arms hanging off. Some nights I make him sleep on the couch in our family room - he's not quite as big as me yet, but he's getting there. The tiny bed we've always shared is getting much too small for an almost full grown man and a growing 12 year old. I haven't figured out what we're going to do when he does get to my size; I'll have to hunt overtime to save enough money to buy a new mattress (not very likely - even used mattresses don't come cheap.) Or, I'll probably just bargain in the Hob for some materials to make my own. We'll figure something out, but for right now, I'm more worried about keeping everyone fed.

And surviving the reaping today.

My gut clenches at the thought. I can't help but envision all 42 slips evenly spread out on a table. My 42 slips could fill entire reaping bowl by themselves.

_No, it won't happen. _I tell myself. _I can get through this; this is my last year._

I throw the thin blanket off my legs and quietly creep from the bed. Still, Rory stirs.

"Gale?" he mumbles.

"Shh, I'll be back in a little while." I tell him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

I glance over to the bed opposite of ours, which is slightly bigger, where my mother, Vick, and Posy are sleeping soundly. I quietly grab some clean clothes and get changed in the adjacent bathroom.

I lace up my old leather boots, sling my empty pack across my shoulder, and head out into the Seam in the eerie morning twilight. I sneak under the fence, and move out into the woods to check my snares, which have only caught two squirrels. Two measly squirrels! I scowl at the ugly, scrawny little things. What a great day this has started out to be. I quickly clean them and sneak back into 12, I might as well get what I can for them.

There's no one out this early in the morning, and the only noise I hear is my own breathing and the crunch of gravel beneath my boots. I make the brisk walk into town - it's going to be a lovely day. The air is fresh and crisp, and the sun is already casting a colorful warmth over the dismal gray buildings.

I stop at the back door of the bakery, look around quickly to make sure I'm not being followed, and give a few quick knocks. The old man answers the door and lets me in. Immediately, I'm engulfed by the ravishing aroma of fresh baked goods and pastries.

"What do you have for me?" he asks gruffly.

I take out the squirrels, and he looks them over.

"I was hoping for a loaf of bread." He nods, takes the squirrels, and hands me a fresh-baked loaf. The smell and warmth overwhelm me, and my empty stomach responds with an enthusiastic growl.

Perhaps the old man hears it, because he stops abruptly, contemplating something, and then hands me a second loaf.

"Here, take two." He says tersely. I'm stunned for a second; it's so unlike him to be generous, and I was already lucky to get the first loaf for just two squirrels. So, I do take it. This means I'll have a loaf for my family, and a loaf for Katniss and I to share.

"Thank you so much." I say earnestly.

He mumbles some kind of acknowledgement and as I turn to leaves adds, "Good luck today."

"And to your family." I reply. He nods and I leave - the old man's not much of a talker, but I appreciate the extra bread. This stuff isn't cheap.

I wrap the bread in my pack and make my way back into the Seam. I creep into my house and leave a loaf sitting on the kitchen table for my family. I don't bother wrapping it with a towel to keep it warm - the heavenly smell will have them up in no time.

The sun is almost fully up by now, so I head back under the fence and into the woods to our meeting place. I know Katniss will be a few minutes longer, so I set the bread on a rock and shoot one of my arrows through it. If I'm taken away this afternoon, I might as well make her laugh one last time.

I sit on the rocks in our spot and patiently watch the sun rising in the east.

My heart skips a beat when I see her lithe figure emerge from the trees.

"Hey, Catnip." I greet her, "Look what I shot." I hold the loaf of bread as if I was showing her a prized kill.

She jumps from the trees and laughs, grabbing the loaf excitedly.

"Mm, still warm." She holds the bread close to her face, and devours the heavenly aroma. "What did it cost you?"

Oh, Katniss. Always worried about what she might owe me. But then I think to myself, _You would ask the same. _And I know I would - and I would probably try to pay her back for it.

"Just a squirrel." I say, "I think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning, even wished me luck."

"We all feel a little closer today, don't we?" she says in a mocking tone. A smile almost twitches to my lips.

Almost.

"Prim left us cheese." She reaches into her pack to put it out.

"Thank you, Prim." A grin tickles my cheeks."We'll have a real feast." Perhaps this day won't be as bad as I thought. I pluck a few berries from the bushes around us and then add, "I almost forgot," I change my tone of voice to include a disgusting Capitol accent, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds-" I toss a berry her way it test her reflexes. She instantly leans forward to catch it between her pearly white teeth, and finishes my sentence with the exact same accent "-be ever in your favor!"

I smirk and she grins back. We're a good team.

I pull out my knife and begin to cut the bread into thick slices.

Katniss and I are not family, or cousins, like some people think, and we're not lovers...even though sometimes I secretly wish we were. We're simply partners. And friends. After four years of hunting together, we're like a well-oiled machine, and between the two of us, we're unstoppable.

I carefully spread the fresh goat cheese over the slices of bread while Katniss plucks handfuls of berries from the bushes around us. We hunt together, provide for our families together, and look out for eachother...it's just what we do.

We finally settle into our little nook in the rocks and enjoy our feast in content silence.

_Perhaps for the last time, _alittle voice in the back of my head whispers. I shove it away - I don't want to think about it. Not now.

It just...pisses me off. It's so hard to control my rage sometimes, especially out here in the woods where I know no one can hear me. I'd rather not spend my last few moments with Katniss screaming at her in rage...over things I can't control.

_Not your last. _I remind myself. _Stay positive._

Why couldn't everything be as simple as Katniss and I in the woods?

As I look at her content face for a distraction, it's so easy to picture us living out here on our own. Hunting, gathering, fishing, living...yes, even loving. Simple. And so possible...quite within my reach.

"We could do it you know," I muse.

"What?" Katniss breaks away from her own train of thought to stare at me, confused.

_Oops, did I say that out loud?_

"Leave the district." I say after a moment of contemplating it. "Run off. Live in the woods...you and I, we could make it."

Katniss stares at me in disbelief, and I almost wish I hadn't said it out loud.

"If we didn't have so many kids." I add quickly.

She looks down unhappily at her piece of bread. "I never want to have kids."

"I might." I say, toying with idea of starting my own family. "...if I didn't live here."

"But you do." Katniss snaps.

"Forget it." I growl.

_It was a stupid idea, anyway._

We finish our meal in silence, and Katniss asks, "What do you want to do first?"

I think about it for a second and then say, "Let's fish in the lake. We can leave our poles and gather in the woods. Get something nice for tonight." _To celebrate the fact that we both come back._

She nods and we begin the trek out to the lake.

Around noon we head back to the Hob the trade the morning's catch.

We finish our business there, and stop by the Mayor's house to sell off a portion of the strawberries Katniss collected.

Madge, the Mayor's daughter, opens the door. Her lacy white dress dazzles brilliantly in the bright afternoon sun and I can't help but notice the solid gold pin pinned neatly on her chest.

It pisses me off. Any other day I might think she actually looked rather pretty, but not today.

"Pretty dress." I hiss.

Madge stares at me for a minute, confused.

"Well, if I end up going to the Capitol today, I want to look nice, don't I?" she replies politely. I can't decide if she is trying to be polite or if she figured out that my compliment was intended as an insult.

"You won't be going to the Capitol." I reply calmly, "What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."

I can tell Katniss is beginning to feel the tension, because she quickly snaps, "That's not her fault."

"No, it's no one's fault." I say, "It's just the way it is." _And I fucking hate it._

Madge hands Katniss money for the berries and, ignoring me completely, responds, "Good luck, Katniss."

"You, too." Katniss replies politely and the door closes.

For a single moment I despise Madge. Her and her five fucking entries. And her damn rich family, and this whole damn world that I live in. An image of that shiny gold pin flashes through my mind. How much money could that pin be worth? It could feed my family for weeks, no doubt - and buy us fancy food like the bread we had this morning.

As we walk back to the Seam, I don't say a word. I don't really want to argue with Katniss about what happened; no doubt she's already annoyed with me for trying to snare her friend.

What ever. At this point I don't even care. I just wish we didn't have to constantly worry about having enough to eat, or clothes to wear, or having enough beds to sleep in - just barely scrapping along. But the worst part, I think, about the entire situation, is the fact that there is absolutely _nothing_ I can do about it.


End file.
